


Trying to be Better

by Blaze5899



Category: Six of Crows Series - Leigh Bardugo
Genre: Addiction, Gambling, M/M, No Spoilers, positivity, something that you can actually relate on a personal level
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-13
Updated: 2019-03-13
Packaged: 2019-11-16 12:29:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18094331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blaze5899/pseuds/Blaze5899
Summary: A short little thing that I wrote for a competition a long time ago. There are no spoilers or swear words. Enjoy :D-i am totally not posting this because i am super behind on my main fanfic *nervous laugh*-





	Trying to be Better

**"Only I can change my life. Nobody else can do it for me." - Carol Burnett**

 

================

  
  
_Thunk._  
  
After a few seconds of swaying and seeing stars in his vision, Jesper made several slow blinks and put a hand on the lamppost that he apparently just slammed into. There was a throbbing on his forehead.  
  
The Slat was a few feet ahead of him. Right. He was going back to his apartment. It was well past midnight. Jesper was dimly aware that he should be more alert in this part of the city during this hour, but the only thing on his mind was the comfy feel of his cot and the sweet release of slumber.  
  
Rotty was smoking in the lobby when Jesper stumbled in. He looked over Jesper with a raised brow. "Well, did you win?"  
  
Jesper glared at him. "What're you doing up at this hour, Rotty?"  
  
Rotty snorted. "You lost by a lot, it seems. And I could ask the same to you. What would Wylan think of you doing this?"  
  
"Mind your own hecking business." Jesper started up the stairs.  
  
"By the way, Kaz was looking for you, " Rotty called.  
  
Great. Another person to humiliate him. And possibly another job. He went past his own room to go to Kaz's.  
  
When he stepped inside Dirtyhands' lair, Kaz and Inej were in the middle of examining an intricate sketch of the interior of a mansion, which he immediately knew was drawn by Wylan. At the thought of his beloved merchling, Jesper felt a wave of guilt and prayed that Wylan wouldn't visit him tomorrow and witness his hungover state.  
  
"Long night?" said Kaz.  
  
Jesper couldn't think of a smart reply. Inej didn't say anything, but she was frowning at him. He tried not to think about how her silent gaze made him feel and sat down in front of them, leaning back. "As long as any night."  
  
"Do you think you will be able to function tomorrow?" asked Kaz.  
  
He sat up straighter. "Why, you got a job?"  
  
Kaz ignored his question. "Will you be able to walk in a straight line and hold a gun properly?"  
  
"Are you insulting me?"  
  
Inej looked at Kaz. "I think we should take Pim instead. He can also help with the lockpicking."  
  
"I'm the best shooter," Jesper objected. "Pim can't aim far."  
  
Kaz considered the map. "We'll take Pim."  
  
"What?" Jesper sprang up and almost fell over. "I'm up for the job. I don't know what it is or what you guys are planning, but I can do it. You called me in the beginning."  
  
"Jesper," Inej said gently. "You should go rest. We're going to do this at dawn. You'll be well into your headaches by then."  
  
"Dawn? That's only a few hours. I won't even need to sleep. And why aren't you guys resting?"  
  
"You can barely stand," Kaz said flatly. "We tried to call you here a long time ago but turns out you were busy. So just take the day off tomorrow."  
  
Jesper couldn't believe it. They were picking Pim over him just because he was a little drunk? "I didn't even know that there was going to be another mission," he accused, "You guys always tell me things last minute."  
  
Kaz's voice was cold. "It was your fault that you went to the gambling halls and got yourself wasted because you lost all your chances. We don't have the luxury to wait for you all the time. You'd be going on twice as many missions if you'd simply make yourself more available and managed your time better. I hope you are aware that you're not the only sharpshooter here."  
  
It was as if Kaz had punched him in the face. Jesper stared angrily at him. He couldn't think properly, and he felt utterly helpless. Kaz only stared back at him, his expression unchanging. He told Inej, "Tell Pim to come up. And gather up the uniforms."  
  
Inej silently got up. "Let's go, Jesper."  
  
Once they left Kaz's room, Inej said quietly, "You have to stop going to those places. It's not helping you in any way."  
  
Jesper laughed. "You should have Kaz tie a leash on me. Or have bruisers beat me up every time they see me enter the doors."  
  
She shook her head. "You have to control yourself. Kaz is harsh, but you're not being reliable to him."  
  
"He's going to get rid of me, isn't he? He doesn't give a kruge about me." Jesper almost tripped, and Inej had to grab his arm.  
  
They reached his door. "He won't get rid of you, you're still a good second. Just try to put your energy elsewhere. I heard the canals are looking for volunteers." She gave his hand a squeeze.  "Rest well."  
  
"Goodnight Inej." He closed the door and  scoffed.  
  
_Volunteering._

 

================================

 

  
  
He woke up feeling like his head was on fire. Groaning, he sat up and stretched his numb legs.  
  
He then saw that someone else was in his room. Wylan was sitting in a chair next to the bed, watching him.  
  
Jesper felt a trickle of dread, but he smiled languidly at the other boy. "Sneaking into my room to watch me sleep?"  
  
"You look horrible." Not a single hint of a blush. Dang.  

  
"I feel wonderful." As he said that, a wave of nausea rolled inside him.  
  
Wylan wrinkled his nose and handed him a hot drink. "There's medicine in it. Inej taught me how to make it."  
  
Jesper sighed as he drank the tea. "I don't know what I'd do without her. Or you."  
  
"You'd probably have all the gangs after you and be wearing rags instead of those ridiculously bright pants."  
  
"Ouch. Are you gonna be scolding me next to my bed the entire day?"  
  
Wylan's bright blue eyes pierced him. "Why do you keep going back there?"  
  
"Missing me at night, aren't you?" Jesper gave Wylan his most annoying grin.  
  
Wylan wacked him hard. Jesper yelped. "What in the world? You're well on your way to becoming a Barrel rat!"  
  
"What good do you think comes from losing money for no reason?" Wylan demanded.  
  
"I can't help it," Jesper snapped. His head kept throbbing, and he could feel his nervous energy rising. "It just happens, okay? The bets keep calling me." He grabbed one of his revolvers and started fiddling with it. "I just-- I must."  
  
Wylan stared at Jesper's fidgeting fingers and bouncing knees. "You can help it, if you let yourself."

“What do you know about it? You don’t have this problem like me.” Jesper’s voice came out like a snarl.

Wylan looked steadily at Jesper. “At least you acknowledge that it’s a problem.” He stood up.   "I have to work on something for Kaz. I could use someone to retrieve an order."  
  
Yes. He needed to feel useful. He couldn't bear having more people angry or disappointed in him. He swung his long legs over his cot. "Naturally you came to me because of my impressive muscles. Lead the way, merchling."

 

====================================

  
  
It was during times like this when Jesper regretted the people he hung out with. Wylan was definitely trying to torture him. He had been trudging through the pouring rain carrying a package as heavy as Nina for almost two hours, and was drenched to the bone. His head still hurt, and it was making him dizzy. If anyone wanted to attack him, they would have easily succeeded, since Jesper's arms were full, and his fancy revolvers were thoroughly soaked and unusable. That dumb merchling could be as sadistic as Kaz. What in Ghezen's name was in this thing?  
  
Finally, he reached the Slat, after setting down the box to rest every few feet on the way.  
  
"Saints," said Wylan as Jesper entered the workshop, leaving a trail of rainwater, "Didn't think to use an umbrella?"  
  
Jesper dropped the package roughly on the work table. "How many arms does it look like I have?"  
  
Wylan hummed as he cut open the box. "At least four."  
  
Jesper gaped at the contents inside. "You made me carry these giant chunks of metal for six blocks? Under a heavy downpour with a massive headache?"  
  
"I can't be blamed for your own bad decisions, the weather patterns in Ketterdam, or Kaz's orders. This will probably be the most exercise you'll have all week."  
  
"You son of a--"  
  
Wylan gave Jesper a dry towel. "Go change and get dry before you catch pneumonia. I'll make you another hot tea."

 

==============================

 

  
Later, when he was just about to fall asleep, it occurred to Jesper that he didn't feel the urge to go gambling at all that night.

 

================================

 

  
The feeling of peace only lasted until next morning. Although he paid attention to Kaz's instructions and explanations on his new task, his mind kept drifting back to the beautiful  sound of the spinning wheel. He swelled with delight as Kaz gave him his share, and imagined himself winning everything tonight. Yet, he was also aware of the voices in his head that told him to be better.  
  
_I shouldn't be like this. I need to save this money. I should find somewhere else to put my energy._  
  
As the sky grew darker and the streets started to come awake, Jesper's dread increased. The casinos were calling him, screaming at him. They needed him to be there. His body needed to be there. He needed to satisfy his hunger.  
  
There was a flyer on the lamppost that he crashed into the other day.

_Volunteers are needed for cleanup and maintenance of 5th Harbor. If you are looking for something to do or want to help improve this city, come help out the construction workers! Any service will be greatly appreciated._

  
  
He remembered Inej and Wylan's words. What if he didn't go to the parlors tonight? What would happen? He's gone through nights without going to them, and it didn't kill him. His friends would be proud of him. His father would be proud of him.  
  
The more he looked at the Slat, the stronger his urges grew. He needed to free himself. He needed to feel free. He touched the revolvers around his waist, and it brought some comfort.  
  
He remembered the anger he felt whenever he lost, the feeling of betrayal when luck wasn't on his side. He remembered Kaz's cold gaze, Inej's disappointment, Wylan's frustration, and the unforgiving headaches that could last a whole day.  
  
He needed to stop standing in the middle of the the street. He needed to go somewhere and do something.  
  
_Put the energy elsewhere._  
  
Jesper turned and headed for Fifth Harbor.

 

==================================

 

  
  
"Yo Wylan."  Jesper threw an arm around the other boy and pulled him close. He was in a light mood. "How's my favorite merchling doing?"  
  
Wylan scowled, flushing at the physical contact. "I was doing fine until you came."  
  
"How you wound me. Do you need help with anything? Manual labor, perhaps? I understand that heavy lifting would be hard for someone as frail as you."  
  
Wylan shoved him away. "I'm not frail! I have way more brain muscles than you. Since you're so bored right now, you can come to the  with me restock my demo supplies."  
  
Jesper clapped his hands. "Alright! Let's go!"  
  
"Why are you so energetic today?" grumbled Wylan.

 

==============================

 

  
  
The whole gang let out several rounds of cheers. Another successful mission was completed, and loads of money was won. The centers of attention were Kaz, the man always behind the schemes; Jesper, who had saved everyone's lives with his impossible shots; and Inej, who had fended off six rival gang members to protect the other two and had limped back covered head to toe in blood. Although, if Jesper were honest, it didn’t seem like she was very proud of what she had done.  
  
Jesper accepted every praise and drink offered with gratitude and pride. Even Kaz had complimented his performance today.  
  
Rotty clapped Jesper's back.  "Shall we head for the casinos tonight?"  
  
Jesper opened his mouth, and the words were at the tip of his tongue, but he hesitated. He was on a streak of ‘3 days of no gambling’ right now. He wondered how long he could actually last. Right now, he wasn't feeling the calling as strongly. How many times had he gone to the gambling dens simply out of habit and turn it into an uncontrollable necessity? He said, "I'll pass today, man."  
  
Sounds of surprise came around him. Kaz raised an eyebrow. Untangling himself from the crowd with easy laughs and banters, he stepped out of the Slat.  
  
Wylan followed him out. "Where are you going?"  
  
Jesper suddenly felt bashful, which was a feeling that he seldom experienced. "I'm gonna go volunteer at Fifth Harbor. They need help carrying materials and painting stuff," he said as he walked. He turned to Wylan and poked his arm. "Do you want to come with me? We should add some meat to those weak arms."  
  
Wylan rolled his eyes, but there was a grin on his face. “You talk as if you’re buff.”

“I grew up on a farm, so I am considered buff. Judging by your sickly pale skin, it doesn’t seem like you’ve ever seen the sun.”

They continued to exchange jibes as walked in the streets. _This was improvement_ , Jesper thought. It was a start. He knew that he was still going to feel the need to make bets again. He knew that he would screw himself up again. But more importantly, he knew that he had the ability to control himself, and that he didn't have to stay stuck making the same mistakes over and over again.

 


End file.
